


Interlude

by softestpunk



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, PWP, Size Kink, just Eivor and Leofrith having a lovely time, no really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29395551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpunk/pseuds/softestpunk
Summary: After running into Leofrith again in Lincoln, Eivor finally gets what he's wanted since he first saw the enormous Saxon warlord on his knees. (This is 100% PWP).
Relationships: Eivor/Leofrith (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 95





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quills_at_dawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quills_at_dawn/gifts).



> Happy birthday to my dear friend (and constant enabler) 🎉🎂💜

Eivor groaned happily as his back hit a straw-stuffed mattress, grabbing at the straps of Leofrith’s armour to pull him down, eager to feel the full weight of his body on top of him.

This had all started with a grey day in Lincoln, the offer of a drink to a sodden Saxon ex-warlord who was still awaiting passage to Rome, and then the favour returned, and now…

Now, Eivor was getting what he’d wanted since he’d seen Leofrith on his knees in Repton, looking up at him as though he shone with the light of the sun.

A low rumbling hum sounded in Eivor’s chest as he pulled Leofrith in for a kiss, fingers threading through his cropped hair, more of his weight pressing down on him, pinning him to the mattress.

Heat rose in his belly at the way Leofrith allowed him to bite at his mouth, harsh and demanding, goading and goading until his patience came to an end and he surged forward with a snarl, pushing Eivor down and taking what _he_ wanted, teeth raking Eivor’s lip, a bruising kiss that only made him squirm what little way he could under Leofrith.

“More,” Eivor demanded, tightening his grip on Leofrith, thighs squeezing at the enormous Saxon’s waist, straining at the stretch of circling it. Under his armour, Leofrith’s body was a solid wall of muscle, thick and hard, tempting Eivor’s hands to roam over all of the scarred flesh within his reach.

He had managed to get Leofrith out of half his armour, and he had stripped himself down to tunic and breeches before growing impatient and dragging Leofrith to the bed, head swimming with the effects of just enough mead to render both of them uninhibited.

But he knew he had nothing to fear. Not from Leofrith, pillar of honour, defender of Mercia, proud and strong but capable of being gentle, so gentle when he wanted to be.

Ceolbert had told Eivor many stories of him, and Eivor had saved each one of them like a squirrel hoarding acorns. Now he would keep this story as well, locked away safely where only he would know it.

“More?” Leofrith asked, kind eyes almost black with want.

Eivor nodded, the words to describe all the things he wanted temporarily lost to him. He pulled Leofrith down again, thrusting his tongue into his mouth to search for them there, rolling the two of them over on the thankfully-sturdy bed.

He purred with satisfaction at having trapped his giant under him, momentarily a hero defeating a jotun and taking what he wanted as his prize, rutting against the firm muscle of Leofrith’s belly.

He nuzzled his way down Leofrith’s neck, breathing him in deeply as though he might keep some part of him in this way. For a moment, Eivor imagined a world where he had taken Leofrith prisoner, brought him back to Ravensthorpe as a prize of war, and kept him, all of his strength kept in store just for Eivor’s benefit, as bodyguard or bed slave.

But no. No, Leofrith was a free thing, a wild thing, too beautiful to cage and all the sweeter for having him of his own free will, months after they’d parted.

A broad hand fell on his backside, and he knew instantly all the words he needed to get what he wanted.

“Make me take it,” Eivor murmured in Leofrith’s ear. “All of it.”

Leofrith growled, and before he could react, Eivor was pinned once more to the bed, his mouth taken in another searing, demanding kiss that made his belly heat and his body squirm.

Leofrith’s rough hands pushed under his tunic, rucking it up to splay thick fingers over his skin, tugging it off with impatience that strained the seams. Eivor had no time to register the cold of the air in the room, Leofrith already pressed against him, the glorious friction of skin on skin setting a fire of anticipation that scorched him in its relentless path.

“You are very beautiful,” Leofrith said, levering himself up to trace the complex lines of ink that decorated Eivor’s chest, thumbing a nipple here, trailing down to his belly and teasing the waistband of his breeches.

Eivor beamed up at him, more than happy to be flattered with pretty words while he was touched with wide hands.

Leofrith kissed him again, leaning down this time so Eivor could feel the hard, thick, hot length of his cock pressed against his thigh, grinding against him with suppressed need.

But Eivor did not want the need suppressed. He wanted it raw and unbridled, harsh and rough and bruising.

“Do not feel the need to hold back, Leofrith,” Eivor purred in Leofrith’s ear, his lips brushing the shell of it as his hand slid under the waistband of his breeches, gripping a handful of firm rump that promised all the force Eivor ached for. “You will not hurt me in ways I do not desire.”

A low, needy noise rumbled in Leofrith’s chest, almost a growl, and then Eivor found himself flipped over, breeches pulled down far enough to expose him and catch around his thighs. He wanted to kick them off, but Leofrith’s hand on his hip was firm, too firm to buck off, and Eivor moaned at the knowledge that he could not overpower Leofrith, not in this position, no matter how hard he tried.

The distinctive scent of Saxon sword oil reached Eivor's nose just in time for him to feel Leofrith spreading him apart, dribbling it on his flesh so it rolled between his legs, making him moan into the thin pillow beneath him. He bit his lip at the first teasing touch of Leofrith’s fingers, rubbing against him but not yet pressing inside.

Belly tight with anticipation, Eivor panted his way through a wave of arousal at Leofrith's bruising grip on his thigh, holding him in place, and he revelled in the thought of wearing a mark there, one he would feel for days after.

The pillow muffled a needy groan as Leofrith finally gave him what he was waiting for, thick, warm fingers slipping inside him so easily they might have been made for it, Eivor so eager that his body relaxed with no coaxing at all, thighs inching apart eagerly, testing the workmanship of his breeches as they creaked in protest at Eivor's need to spread himself greedily for what he was about to get.

Leofrith’s hand moved to his side, soothing strokes, testing hitches of Eivor’s breath, tracing more inked lines as he worked, the slick sound of oil being spread obscene in the silence only broken by the harshness of their breathing.

Lovers were often surprised by how quiet Eivor was for this, a man normally so enamoured with words that he had been more than once accused of loving the sound of his own voice more than he was capable of loving anything else. But there was no need for words here, no need to think, no need for cleverness.

All he desired was to be thrust into, deep enough to make him feel bruised on the inside in the morning, and Leofrith required no more instructions to do that.

He pulled his fingers out wordlessly when he was satisfied, trailing them down the inside of Eivor’s thigh and pulling his breeches down past his knees with one strong tug that jolted Eivor’s body and the bed alike. Then there was heat, a furnace of it against Eivor’s back, heightened to blistering between his cheeks where the hard line of Leofrith’s cock lay. Just for a few breaths, just a moment before the blunt head was pressed against him and then _inside_ him, glorious bursts of pleasure like pinecones exploding in a campfire wracking Eivor’s already-sensitive body.

He gasped for ragged breath after ragged breath, barely allowed to give chase to the next gulp of air before Leofrith ground into him, slow and thorough. Eivor closed his eyes even as they rolled into the back of his skull, senseless with the pleasure of getting everything he wanted from Leofrith.

A deep groan bubbled up from the pit of his stomach as Leofrith moved, solid body sliding against Eivor’s own, holding him in place as he moved, slowly at first, leaving Eivor tingling in waves as he adjusted, then harder, faster so that the well-worn bed under them creaked with each thrust.

Eivor’s thighs tightened with need as his fingers slipped on the fur beneath him, scrabbling for a grip to have something to hold onto. The room, the _world_ swirled around his head, dizzy with pleasure as he screwed his eyes shut and watched the paths of light he remembered from the skies in Norway dancing on the backs of his eyelids.

Pleasure tightened his belly as he felt Leofrith bearing down on him, his full weight crushing Eivor into the straw beneath, hand finally slipping under him to curl around his cock instead of letting him rut against the rough sheets. He groaned, right from the pit of his stomach, the sound alone leaving him empty and spent, though he knew there was more to come, and he would not hold out much longer.

Leofrith's other hand curled around his shoulder, holding him firm as he bucked into him, gravelly primal noises tearing free of his throat with every hard thrust. Eivor gasped for breath between them, hiccuping as each gulp of air was pushed out of his lungs from the very pit of his stomach. This was so good, _too_ good. Too good for him, too good to give up, and _oh_ he was close now, so close he could taste his release in the back of his throat.

Leofrith set his teeth to the back of Eivor’s neck, and that was all the push he needed, the sudden burst of extra pressure rushing down his spine and whiting out his vision as his back arched and his balls tightened, hips jerking as he spilled himself into the circle of Leofrith’s hand.

A second wave of shuddering pleasure coursed through him as he felt Leofrith finish, both of their bodies tightening at once and then loosening as though their bones had been stolen.

For long moments, Eivor felt the spent weight of Leofrith’s body pressing down on him, and the tickle of his harsh breathing against his neck, and felt contentment unlike any he remembered from his time in England--perhaps even from his time before.

Leofrith rolled off eventually, pushing Eivor onto his back and then bending down to lick his belly clean, tongue rasping broad strokes over still-sensitive flesh and making him squirm all over again. His fingers fell to Leofrith’s hair to play with a strand that curled behind his ear as he finished his work, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and making another erotic thrill jolt Eivor’s insides.

He would certainly feel this in the morning, and possibly for a few mornings to come,

Finally, Leofrith collapsed beside him on the mattress, the bed giving one last creak of protest before falling silent.

“Will you still go to Rome?” Eivor asked, panting as his blood cooled, luxuriating in the feeling of being well and thoroughly satisfied.

“I must,” Leofrith said, strong arms stretched out above his head, naked body still on full display, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat that Eivor ached to lick from his skin. “Burgred betrayed me.”

Eivor hummed. He understood the impulse, though he would himself have let the man live in shame and exile as the greater punishment.

“When you are done in Rome,” he said, instead of offering his opinion. “Find us at Ravensthorpe. There will be a place for you.”

“Among your raiders?” Leofrith asked, raising a dark brow as his head lolled to the side to meet Eivor’s gaze.

Eivor grinned. “I would be very happy to have you as a raider,” he said. “But you would be equally welcome as a friend.”

Leofrith nodded once, looking back up at the ceiling, unknown emotions passing over his handsome face. Eivor watched him a few moments, heart tight in his chest, hoping more than he thought he would that he would see this man again.

“Perhaps I will,” Leofrith said finally. “Perhaps I will.”


End file.
